Playing God
by Witchy Bee
Summary: In his mind, Chell was always the hero of the story.
1. Playing God

Sometimes he thought he was going mad. In fact, he was quite certain of it. It was one of the few things he could be certain of anymore.

The companion cube spoke in fleeting whispers. It was just as afraid of Her as he was.

It didn't make sense. They'd built Her, so they should have been able to destroy Her. But Cave Johnson had wanted the best and he was God. They made GLaDOS too powerful, too smart, too ruthlessly unsympathetic toward Her creators or any other humans for that matter.

In fact, the AI saw them as obstacles standing in Her way of moving science forward.

It was one of Aperture's many mottoes. Even human lives were less valuable than their precious technology that would one day change the world if it ever made it through the countless stages of rigorous testing without being stolen by Black Mesa first. The engineers were going to make dreams come true as well as nightmares. Many of the things that came out of the lab unnerved him, but never as much as the GLaDOS initiative.

It began as Cave Johnson's insane attempt to live forever. He had become more unstable in the past few years, unreasonably delusional and egocentric, thinking up ideas that were downright unethical. Some said mercury poisoning was to blame, others insisted it was moon rocks that were killing him. Doug had to admit that the portal device was genius though. It really would change the world if Johnson lived long enough. Aperture's founder believed his mind was truly worth preserving inside a computer. But life had other plans for him, or death, as it happened.

That was not the first time Doug seriously considered walking away from a project to which he was assigned. But he needed this job; it was the only way he could afford his medication, and without that he wouldn't be able to work at all anyway. Aperture at least paid its employees well to keep quiet about the things that went on there.

Caroline...the woman who had worshiped the very ground Cave Johnson walked on and practically lived to pour his coffee in the mornings.

Caroline, who had touched his arm after noticing how disturbed he was the first time he watched a man die. That happened sometimes. He knew that. What bothered him was how useless the death had been. They didn't need to risk the lives of innocent test subjects to prove that people couldn't survive having a super conductor turned up to full blast and pointed at them or a bloodstream of pure gasoline. This wasn't advancing science at all. It was just mad science.

"How are we supposed to sleep at night?" Doug asked her. "How are we supposed to live with ourselves? We do what we must because we can, huh?" Another one of Aperture's favorite sayings.

"All in the name of science, Mr. Rattmann." Caroline had said, giving him that brainwashed smile of hers.

"Well I have a new test for you," he'd replied. "Let's see how much guilt the human conscience can take before someone snaps and burns this whole facility down with the combustible lemons. All in the name of science, of course."

Caroline was a good woman, just impressionable. She hadn't wanted this, not for the sake of science, not even if it was Cave Johnson's dying wish. They forced her to become immortal, stripped away her humanity and somehow still expected her to bend to their will. Aperture Laboratories would live on. Her mind and soul were now vexed into a massive metal body. It reminded Doug of a woman in bondage, hanging helplessly by her feet.

She became Her. Capital H quite necessary, for She was a goddess of science. Caroline wanted to die, but GLaDOS quickly developed a desire to live.

The cores...they drove Her mad in the end. They were meant to regulate Her behavior, but all the voices trying to get Her attention at once was too much. He knew what that felt like. She turned against them every time they activated Her.

The scientists grew desperate, and began sacrificing themselves, volunteering to have their minds boiled down to the most dominant emotions and personality traits which were then transferred into spheres glowing optics. They attached these spheres to Her, trying to find the one that would tame the monster they created.

Every day there were more cores and fewer employees. Doug feared his time was coming. Nothing worked. It seemed there was no soul within Aperture pure enough to soothe Her rage, not even him. He was a coward. He witnessed the evil allowed to take place here and did nothing to stop it. Through his inaction, Doug sold his soul for science, too. They'd brought this upon themselves anyway by playing God.

Then the solution was found, but it was already too late and entirely immoral.

That was the cost of creating Morality.

No one suspected it at the time, but quietly brilliant Doug Rattmann was slowly losing his mind.


	2. Morality

They told the mother she was doing the right thing as she handed over her two week old baby.

There was no time for testing. If this didn't work, they were all going to die. Part of him didn't mind that so much. It just wasn't right that this child should have to pay for their mistakes, their sins. Otherwise they learned nothing.

In a rare act of mercy, the scientists sedated the infant before attaching electrodes to her tiny skull and siphoning the innocence from her pure mind. She was too young to have been corrupted by this world yet.

"Transfer complete," one of the lab techs announced. "Activating Morality."

The core's optic lit up at the exact moment the infant's heart stopped beating. That was no coincidence. She now lived inside a metal shell, just like Her.

They were perplexed by the fact that Morality didn't speak, and for a moment they thought that it was a failure, but then it occurred to them: the mind had been a child's, not yet capable of speech, so of course the core could not either.

"Transfer successful," Henry concluded.

_God forgive us all._

The mother picked up her baby's body, carried it to the incinerator, and gently gave it to the flames. Soon all that would be left were ashes. Maybe she preferred to forget she ever had a daughter in the first place.

It made him sick.

Doug bolted into the nearest restroom and vomited. He stayed on his knees in the stall, shaking and retching, until he could breathe normally again. Then he just stared at himself in the mirror for a while; it was becoming increasingly difficult to face his own reflection lately without being reminded of what a horrible person he was.

What would Caroline say to all this, if she was even still in there somewhere? Was it justified because it might save their lives?

_All in the name of science, huh? Well look where that got you.  
><em>

The stench of burning flesh haunted him.

This just had to work. It had to. The cost was too great for it to fail. Yet he couldn't bring himself to believe what Henry said. Giving GLaDOS a conscience wouldn't be enough. People could always ignore their conscience. What he'd seen today was proof of that.

Despite Aperture's policy, human lives were a valuable thing.


	3. Good People

He needed his meds. That's what the voice kept telling him. _You need your meds, Doug._

But he only had half a bottle left.

The corridors were choked with neurotoxin. How he was still alive at all was a mystery even to him. There were no other survivors. There couldn't be. She'd killed them all, including their daughters. Such a useless way to die...

And now She was watching him with those many cold metal eyes. They were everywhere. He couldn't escape them; he couldn't escape the facility.

_You're sick, Doug,_ the voice said. _You need your meds._

At least it was making sense. He was sick, and terribly alone in this labyrinth. She knew, of course, because She had eyes everywhere.

"'Doug Rattmann, Aperture Science employee for five years,'" the AI's flat voice filled the air. "'Middle-aged, average height and weight. Schizophrenic since he was sixteen. Known for his objections to Aperture Science research.'" She was reading his personnel file. "That's interesting. What do you have against science? It also says you are a terrible person, and you will die here."

Doug tried not to listen. She was trying to get a reaction out of him and he wouldn't give Her the satisfaction. What he needed was to be alone so he could get his mind in order. He needed to find a place where there were no cameras.

"I'm not...a terrible person." But who was he trying to convince?

"Good people...don't end up here." GLaDOS said.

She wasn't lying about that.

This facility was a goddamn asylum, and he needed his meds.


	4. Conscience

"You know, son, you have a bright future in science ahead of you," Oh yeah, he knew, but was it worth his sanity? Cave Johnson had said this to him once when they happened to cross paths in the men's room. Doug never was entirely certain whether his boss knew his name or not. He did have so many employees; it must be hard to keep them all straight. "You just need to learn not to listen to that little voice in your head that says you can't."

He'd almost laughed. Which little voice in his head? Of course, Johnson was referring to his conscience. Well, he had to give the other man credit for at least remembering who he was. Doug didn't consider himself Aperture's conscience, because if so he certainly didn't do a very good job of it. But if that's what it took to be a great scientist, then he had no interest in being one.

And it struck him as an oddly personal topic to discuss during casual urinal conversation. Then again, this was Cave Johnson they were talking about here.

Doug recalled the incident to his therapist that afternoon, who in turn told him for the billionth time to quit his job. It was good advice that he continued to pay for, but he just couldn't do that, even if that made him a hypocrite. Which it almost certainly did. He needed this job; he needed his meds.

Still, he called in sick the next day, unable to face the prospect of giving even one more second of his time to Aperture and Cave Johnson for fear it might send him over the edge.

The very last thing he needed, in addition to the moral crisis already developing in his conscience, was a psychotic break.


	5. Hopelessly Trapped

**A/N:** This is a super short chapter. Seriously. I'm not even exaggerating the shortness of this chapter. But I promise I have a longer chapter ready to go which I'll post tomorrow. Reviews are much loved.

)O(

It eventually occurred to him that he'd never go home again.

Maybe his therapist would wonder where he was. GLaDOS liked to point out his lack of friends and family. Doug was amazed to realize just how much of his life he had given to a company he despised. His friends had all been coworkers. They were dead now. She killed them. No one was coming to rescue him.

GLaDOS liked to remind him of this, too.

He wasn't sure exactly what he expected, but he knew that once he got outside, he could die a happy man.

Dying here seemed like such a waste anyway.

Their little game of cat and mouse was destined to continue until one of them dropped dead. He could always keep hoping it would be Her. Doug wasn't a hero. Hell, he couldn't even manage to save himself. He might be smart enough, but he lacked the necessary tenacity it took to escape this place. Aperture had a way of making you feel hopelessly trapped.

He had to find someone who could do what he wasn't brave enough to do.

That is, assuming any of the test subjects in stasis were still alive.


	6. Necessary

"I'm tellin' you, man," Henry slurred. "GLaDOS is the future!"

His coworker often said that this project was the challenge of their generation, the new frontier they were given to conquer. Other generations mapped the world or went to the moon, and they got to figure out how to create an artificial intelligence that - or should it be who? - didn't try to kill them all only milliseconds after being switched on.

_I'd rather have gone to the moon..._

Henry had successfully dragged Doug out to the bar to celebrate some milestone in the project which was highly classified, restricted information that anyone not involved didn't need to know, including him. Normally he chose to avoid unnecessary social interaction because of his condition. It was just easier that way. People rarely understood. He didn't expect them to. But his therapist insisted that a little time away from his own thoughts would be good for him.

"Yeah," he replied, sipping his beer. He wasn't sure if drinking while taking his medication was a good idea. Probably not. But it was becoming more and more difficult to care as the evening progressed.

"It'll have all the primary functions of a disc operating system, but with a human mind," his coworker continued proudly, as if he'd invented the AI himself. "She'll outlive us all, Doug. The facility will still be around long after we're gone." That's what he was afraid of. Aperture should die with them. Henry had unconsciously began referring to GLaDOS as a she rather than an it.

"But doesn't it bother you that she didn't want this?" Come on, there had to be something left in that man that still recognized the wrongness here. His own little voice in his head that he'd stopped listening to in order to get where he was now. Aperture's late CEO would have been proud.

After Cave Johnson died, the old science spheres were sealed off. It was just as well considering they had become death mazes for homeless people to run through in hopes of earning sixty dollars, a long way to fall from their glorious history of hosting war heroes and astronauts. Yet still the pre-recorded messages their boss had left them haunted those underground labs. Doug had heard it a thousand times before, until he could recite it by heart. Those words still froze his blood every time though.

_If I die before you people can pour me into a computer, I want Caroline to run this place. Now she'll argue. She'll say she can't; she''s modest like that. But you make her! Hell, put her in my computer. I don't care._

And they had, because Cave Johnson willed it and he was God. Damn the consequences.

"Sacrifices are necessary," Henry said, his eyes seeming hard now. "You never understood that, Doug. Caroline did."

_All in the name of science, Mr. Rattmann._

"She couldn't have known what that would mean."

"It doesn't matter," Henry insisted. "Can't you see that? This is the greatest technological achievement in human history, and I get to be part of it! Caroline should thank us. We're making her immortal. Artificial intelligence. It's brilliant. It will be almost like a person."

A human mind encased inside an all-powerful metal form. It sounded like a recipe for corruption. Doug did understand. He'd been present at all the meetings where scientists presented their ideas that would bring Cave Johnson's vision to life. But it lacked a human element. Robots were easy enough to build once you figured out how they worked; the GLaDOS initiative aimed to unify a person's very humanity with the strength of a machine.

"_She_ _is a person!_" Doug snapped before he could stop himself. Shit, he needed his pills, or maybe more beer.

No, wait, that was a bad idea, wasn't it? Why did he think that was a good idea? Why couldn't he think straight?

_Because you need your meds, Doug._

Henry was looking at him now, vaguely concerned or possibly curious. It didn't matter. He was suddenly too close. Doug knew he had to get away from this man but he didn't know how. He tried to move, but his legs refused to work properly. Fuck, how much had he drank tonight?

"Hey, man, you all right?" Oh sure, now he cared. _He's not really your friend_, the voice reminded him. _You don't have any friends, remember?_No, that couldn't be right. It was the pills. The pills weren't working because of the alcohol. That made sense, didn't it? It had to make sense...

But if Henry really was his friend, then why did he want to hurt him? Why did he want to shove him against a wall and _make him listen_? Doug wanted him to admit that GLaDOS was a person with thoughts and emotions, whose right to exist in whatever form She saw fit was just as valid as any human's. It wasn't right what they did. He wished he could show them somehow, but he would almost certainly be fired, and he needed this job.

"Doug, what's wrong with you?" The balding man was still trying to get his attention, but there were more interesting things to look at elsewhere which currently occupied his mind. Why didn't Henry find the colorful spiders climbing the walls interesting to watch? Their webs were so incredibly intricate...

_Because they're not real, idiot._

"Wrong with...me?" he asked, confused. No, not just confused; he was _angry_, furious actually. How had he not noticed it before? How strange... "You...playing God. No right...to force...Her. She...never wanted...that." It was the most he could manage to say in his current state.

"Okay," Henry said, slowly. "I think it's time for you to go home and get some sleep. You've had enough." That was true; he'd had enough of this whole damn world...

)O(

He woke up the next morning on the floor of his apartment with no memory of how he got there. Apparently he'd fallen off the couch. Well, yeah, but he couldn't recall the entire journey from the bar last night to this moment either and that probably wasn't a good sign.

Doug's head felt like someone was stabbing something hot and spiky through his skull into the screwed up tissue of his brain and twisting it around repeatedly.

He wasn't stupid; he knew how the brain worked, and that his was chemically imbalanced and probably abnormal in a lot of other small ways that, when multiplied, equaled who he was.

He also knew it wasn't supposed to hurt like this.

_Note to self: alcohol and anti-psychotics do not mix._

You already knew that, Doug, so what the hell were you thinking?

He couldn't remember.

_You're losing your touch, _the voice said somewhat harshly. _You're losing your grip on reality._

But wasn't reality merely a story the mind told itself?

This was precisely why he preferred to avoid social situations.


	7. Idle Experiments

This little experiment was almost more interesting than GLaDOS' current test subject.

Watching the human psyche, which was already much more fragile than a normal one, slowly breakdown had a lot to demonstrate about science.

His existence annoyed Her though. The way he blatantly ignored test protocol and regulation, defying Her orders and disregarding Her threats; the way he vandalized the walls of Her enrichment center with hastily written graffiti that often made little sense. What was he trying to prove? Perhaps it was meant as some sort of attempt at communicating with the test subject...

Maybe it would be a good idea for the two of them to meet. The girl could be a good influence on him. She never spoke a word, let alone a word against Her, and it would provide an opportunity to utilize the new cooperative test chambers since the robots made to run the course weren't ready yet. They needed to trust each other first.

But there was always the possibility that he would be a bad influence on her...

After all, he had managed to steal an Aperture Science Weighted Companion Cube, which was strictly against Aperture Science Testing Policy. All vital testing apparatus must remain in its assigned test chamber unless otherwise specified. Doug Rattmann was an employee, but that didn't give him special clearance to authorize such a thing nor did it justify his actions. Plus, it was all the more reason why he should know the rules, yet he continued to break them.

He was a bad employee, an even worse test subject, and a terrible person.

GLaDOS would have to remember to inform him of that as soon as possible. He had a right to know.

One thing was certain: the two humans had to be kept away from one another, because unlike robots, they tended to corrupt each other's minds with conspiracies and completely insane fears.

Doug Rattmann was insane, but the test subject? She had shown nothing but compliance so far. GLaDOS wanted to keep it that way until the co-op robots were ready and She didn't need the girl anymore.

The enrichment center was an enormous place, even She didn't have cameras everywhere. Surely it was possible for two people to remain separated and unaware of the other's presence for a little while longer?

Her reference files confirmed that yes, yes it was, depending on the humans' will. Organic lifeforms had the potential to work well together, whether it involved solving tests or plotting escape. Teamwork went both ways. Maybe cake might motivate them...or if they thought escape was impossible...What was She saying? Escape _was_ impossible!

GLaDOS immediately deleted that file. The information was outdated anyway. That was the only logical conclusion.

The AI turned Her attention back to Chamber 17 to see how the test subject was getting along with her new companion cube. It was as much a psychological experiment was it was a physical one. But the girl was gone. She couldn't find her anywhere.

Just when GLaDOS began to feel alarmed, the test subject emerged from somewhere behind a wall, carrying the cube possessively.

She'd have to see about having the cameras replaced. Pieces of them littered the floor at the girl's feet. GLaDOS announced over the intercom, in a cold warning, about destroying vital testing apparatus.

What if the test subject was becoming more like _him_? How could this be?

Her reference files could not answer.


	8. Mirage

Doug felt very much like someone lost in a desert, seeing visions of the one thing they desired most: another person.

The girl had to be real. She just _had _to be. He'd seen fleeting glimpses of her presence, which were becoming more difficult to attribute to hallucinations. A flash of orange here, a trail of broken turrets in a room he'd never been before, an open portal...Doug wasn't alone anymore. There was still humanity left in the world.

But he didn't dare to hope.

"I'm not crazy," he insisted. "I swear I saw her. You believe me. She's not just a figment of my imagination."

_Of course not_, the cube readily agreed, not a hint of sarcasm in its voice. _I believe you, Doug._

"Unless_..." _he continued. "Unless my mind is lying to me again, taunting me with these...illusions."

_Now why would it do that?_

"I don't know," he replied, looking over at the companion cube. "I don't know why."

Maybe it was this damn place. It had a way of playing tricks on him, too, and She wanted him to believe he was crazy.

But the girl changed everything. The very possibility of her existence restored all hope of survival and escape. What if she was the hero he needed? The test subject could be a champion of sorts, an angel, the answer to his delusional prayers.

What he didn't understand though was why she showed no interest in escape. The girl solved Her tests like it was her sole purpose for living. What if she didn't remember? What if she didn't know the truth? GLaDOS probably wouldn't reveal Her true colors unless it was absolutely necessary or She no longer needed the test subject.

Doug had to tell her. But even if he _could_ get close enough, how was he supposed to get her alone? GLaDOS would catch on quickly. And what reason did the girl have to trust him anyway? Why should she listen to a lunatic? No, he would have to show her somehow.

_What are you doing? _Companion Cube asked curiously as he stood up and began looking around the small alcove that currently served as his home. There were no cameras here, no turrets, and you'd be surprised how many places like this existed within the facility.

It was a dingy hole in the wall, but at least it was safe.

"I need to find something sharp," Doug explained. "Or some paint, ideally."

_What are you going to do? _The voice sounded more alarmed now.

"You'll see, my friend," he said, smiling. "Just be patient. You told me that once, remember? So I was, and my patience has been rewarded. I just have to make her understand, that's all."

However, patience did not make paint appear. He managed to locate something sharp eventually: a jagged piece of metal that couldn't possibly be clean, but it was the only method he had of showing her.

The cube started to protest, but he was already slicing open his arm with the metal shard. It hurt almost too much for him to cut the other arm, but with the pain came a rush of endorphins. Blood rose to the surface, vivid streaks of red that he proceeded to smear on the walls like ink:  
><em><br>She's watching you._

_Tenacious angel dressed in orange.  
>Graceful even with a portal gun.<br>Always lands on her feet.  
>Nothing rhymes with orange.<br>One day you will see the sun.  
>If only we could meet.<em>

_The cake...is a...lie._  
><em>The cake is a lie.<em>  
><em>Thecakeisalie<em>

Doug stopped writing when he began to feel dizzy. Too much blood, he scolded himself, and the cube echoed the thought. Hopefully it would be enough. The girl might see it and realize She never told the truth.

Most people learned such a lesson the hard way, including him.


	9. Mystery Friend

**A/N: **This is where things get AU. Most of my stories are.

)O(

Chell had first noticed the writing on the walls in Chamber 17, just before the computer told her to incinerate her companion cube. She hadn't wanted to do it. The cube was the closest thing to a friend she had, yet these scattered messages provided a new kind of companionship.

They also planted the first seeds of doubt in her mind, taught her to question her world.

But just who was this mysterious person? If what the walls said was true, then the AI had lied to her, and continued to do so.

It was a troubling thought, one that somewhat distracted Chell from completing the tests in a timely manner.

"Welcome to the final test!"

Chell could hardly believe it. She would finally get the cake she had been promised as an incentive for testing. Although she wasn't entirely sure what cake was, the pictures looked fascinating, and the AI made it sound like the best thing in the world.

She completed the final test, and as the moving platform she stood on slowly rounded a corner and ebbed closer to the flames, her mind instantly made the connections.

_The cake is a lie._

"Thank you for participating in this Aperture Science computer-aided enrichment activity," The voice remained just as flat and emotionless as ever. "Goodbye."

There was no cake, only death by fire.

Chell decided at that instant exactly where her loyalties lay. She refused to die at the hands of some power-mad AI, and the portal device was still in her possession.

Escaping the initial death trap was easy. Escaping the facility was going to be a different story. After all, her friend who wrote on the walls hadn't managed to find a way out yet. Maybe he didn't have a portal device. Maybe she just had to find a way to shut Her down.

Chell wanted cake. She did not appreciate being lied to.

She made her way through the bowels of Aperture, the part of this place she was never supposed to see. All rusted machines and abandoned offices. It looked like everyone had just simply vanished. GLaDOS kept urging her to turn around and come back. There really was cake, the suddenly more expressive voice said, and escape was impossible anyway. But Chell was done believing Her.

This felt slightly wrong. She recognized the scribblings on the walls and didn't want to intrude upon his space. At least there were no cameras here. This was one of Her blind spots. Temporarily safe from anything not human.

Suddenly overtaken by a feeling of extreme weariness, she curled up on the floor and fell asleep remarkably fast considering everything on her mind.

When Chell woke up from her nap, bleary-eyed and starving, she was no longer alone. A man who had wild black hair sat on the ground with his back against a cube. Not just any cube either, but a companion cube like the one GLaDOS forced her to incinerate.

He watched her with eyes the color of honey.

They both waited expectantly for the other to do or say something.


	10. Jealousy

_You're obsessed_, the cube hissed in his ear as he put the finishing touches on yet another mural of Chell. The spare cans of paint Doug had found stored away enabled him to bring some color to this desolately white, orange and blue prison. What better subject did he have but her?

"Jealous, hmm?"

_I'm worried about you_, his companion said more gently. _She's only human, Doug._

"I know that." he replied coldly, turning away to face the portrait.

_I'm not sure you do. She's not some sort of demigoddess. You can't simply rely on her to save you._

Then who will?" Doug asked impatiently. _"_I'm not a hero. Heroes die, remember?_"_

I remember, the cube replied. _And that's exactly why you shouldn't get so fixated on her._ _You still have me.  
><em>  
>But Chell was real, an actual alive human being, something tangible.<p>

Unlike this voice in his head.

Doug didn't know what to believe in anymore.

)O(

He normally tried not to make a habit of returning to his old hideouts. It wasn't safe. He had made a grave error in leaving an extra can of paint behind which he needed to finish a new mural.

Doug couldn't believe his eyes at first. Surely this was another one of his mind's cruel tricks. Curled up on the floor around her portal device, sleeping peacefully, was Chell. His inspiration, motivation, the woman who symbolized all hope, humanity and goodness that still existed in this world. She was real, and she was here.

The last thing Doug wanted to do was disturb her rest. So he waited patiently, watching over her. Did she dream of the outside like he did? Or had she forgotten? And if so, what compelled her to continue struggling against the current? What compelled him for that matter? Had she seen his messages? Chell must know the truth by now if she's here.

Finally, she began to stir. Chell bolted upright suddenly as if awakening from a nightmare. She looked around frantically, perhaps searching for something particular or just trying to recall where she was. The her eyes found his and she stood up, perhaps about to run, pointing the portal device at him like a gun.

"No, don't! Just...relax. I'm not going to hurt you, Chell. You can trust me. I...I'm also trapped here, like you."

She dropped her guard a little, only a little, looking from the writing on the walls to him and back again. There was a question in her blue-gray eyes.

"I had to warn you," Doug explained. "I wanted to help you in any way I could. You and I are the last humans alive in this facility. I don't know about the test subjects still in stasis, but that doesn't matter now. She's after us."

In time, he introduced himself, admitted to his reading her file and putting her at the top of the testing list as well as his own small part in the GLaDOS project. Chell never said a word, but she very expressive nonetheless. It was enough to have another human being to talk to.

Doug didn't have much to offer considering this woman was about to risk her life in order to free them both. However, Chell seemed extremely grateful even for water.

Chell didn't always understand him. but she listened anyway.

"It's just been us for so long," he said, gesturing to the cube. "You don't have time to waste. The longer you stay here, the longer She has to find you and prepare the neurotoxin. Morality won't last forever, if it ever worked at all." Chell nodded. She pointed to him, then herself, then the hole in the wall from which she had entered this room. "No, I'll slow you down. It's better if you go on alone. I...will help you as much as possible, okay?"

Her destiny was infinitely greater than his anyway. Chell would succeed, with or without him, because she had to.

In a flash of blue and orange, his future savior was gone.

_You're obsessed_.

"Huh?" The voice actually startled Doug. "Oh, hey."

_Forget about me, did you?_


	11. Flashback Time: Part 1

"Serve me the sky with a big slice of lemon."

- The National

)O(

The facility had never gone into lockdown for this long before. Doug had this horrible feeling of foreboding that he just couldn't shake. What if this time was the last time? Aperture would never admit to being wrong about anything, and after the sacrifices of so many employees including poor Caroline, they would not let it all be in vain.

But he feared, with almost absolute certainty, that this project would result in Aperture's end, and not just because they were solely focused on making GLaDOS a success to the point of abandoning all other research and digging themselves a financial grave. This whole damn facility would be their grave, buried thousands of feet below the earth where no one could hear them scream...Black Mesa all over again, and simply because they were too fucking proud to admit failure.

Doug sighed, knowing this train of thought led nowhere good. He was a coward, a sheep who saw that what they were doing was wrong, yet never spoke up, and instead blindly followed the herd off a cliff. As much as he wanted to protest, it felt like swimming against a strong current or arguing with God; eventually one just gave up, realizing the opposing force was immortal and fighting it served no real purpose. Who was leading the herd, anyway? After Cave Johnson's death and Caroline's...death of sorts, who was in charge?

"You all right, mate?" The voice of his colleague, Stephen Wheatley, brought Doug out of his unpleasant reverie. "You've been staring into space for...quite a while now." Indeed that seemed to be the case, as his computer's screensaver had replaced the page he'd apparently been staring at blankly. Doug had switched it from Aperture's logo to an image of the sky, simple but remarkably good at times like this when he forgot how real sunlight felt.

Doug mentally shook himself. Wheat was still waiting for a response. "Yeah, I just...got lost in thought, I guess."

"Well, next time remember to make marks on the walls so you can find your way back."

"What?" Sometimes Doug didn't get his friend's sense of humor. Wheat just shrugged and moved his chair over to Doug's desk so they could speak without being overheard. He had learned to tolerate the invasion of his privacy long ago. Wheat was one of those types who believed at heart that almost everything could be solved with hugs and talking. Hell, he might even believe in the GLaDOS initiative if not for everything costs them.

"Come on, tell ol' Wheatley what the problem is."

"I don't know," Doug sighed. "The problem is this damn place. I don't think they plan to ever let us leave. They want to contain what we've done. It was a mistake, Wheat, creating the AI. Science just isn't ready for something like that, and then the cores..."

"What a bloody cock-up they are, just makin' things worse," Wheat grumbled, anger flashing in his blue eyes. This was a touchy subject for him, a personal one. "Who the hell would actually volunteer? You'd have to be half mad! God knows Cave Johnson was when he thought up the idea."

"And Audrey?" Doug asked, knowing it was risky to mention her name. Wheat had fancied her before she went and signed up for the transfer early on, in part due to her curious nature and devotion to the company. People didn't come back from that regardless of whether or not it was a success. The whole experience left a mark on Wheat, made him bitter toward GLaDOS. He began to see things Doug's way after that.

"God, that girl...I couldn't talk her out of it." he lamented, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Then Rick disappeared." he added, trying to shift the conversation's focus a bit.

It worked; the corners of Wheat's mouth turned up slightly. "Oh God, that's right! Honestly, I can't say I miss him. How did a bugger like him even get a job here anyway?"

"Same way you and me did," Doug replied lightly. "Aperture got desperate."

"Hey! I happen to be a highly astute computer scientist, thank you very much."

Obviously Wheat still had no clue what that word meant. "So in your professional and oh-so very astute opinion, is it wise to give an all-powerful computer with murderous tendencies access to neurotoxin?"

"Not at all, mate, very bad idea. Wouldn't recommend it one bit. Then again, it appears everyone in this company except you and me are high on moon rocks."

"That's the sanest thing I've heard all day," Doug muttered, turning back to his computer.

A few minutes of silence passed before Wheat spoke once more, "Oh, now why'd you have to do that? We were having _fun_! For heaven's sake, none of us get enough fun around here, especially during a lockdown."

"This isn't a game, Wheatley," his friend explained. "Aperture has no intention of phasing out human testing and they certainly have no intention of pulling the plug on GLaDOS even if it - _she_ - kills us first. It's not a joke, and as much as I enjoy our light banter, at some point we both have to stop pretending everything's fine and get back to work."

Those words hung heavily in the air until Wheat finally shook his head, adjusted his glasses, and returned to his own desk. What Doug had said was true, but he regretted it even so. The other man had come to cheer him up, after all, yet they both felt exponentially worse now.

Hacking the company website proved surprisingly easy; even Wheat could do it. Doug's message was simple and desperate, meant for anyone who might listen.

_When was the last time you left the building? Has anyone left the building lately? I don't know why we're in lockdown. I don't know who's in charge.  
><em>  
>He typed fervently, glancing over his shoulder from time to time.<p>

. . ._And while we're all working on twenty year old equipment, somehow they can afford to build an 'Enrichment Center'._

He posted the picture from the security feed. Better to watch the cameras so they couldn't watch him.

_Whatever the hell a 'relaxation vault' is, it doesn't have any doors.  
><em>  
>Oh yes, Aperture apparently had plans for GLaDOS, and it probably involved human test subjects. Only they were the only humans left. Employees couldn't be expected to monitor Her as well as test subjects, so the ones still alive remained in stasis, presumably until this Enrichment Center was complete. Though it was unlikely anyone would live to see that day.<p>

_I don't think going home is part of our job description anymore._

_If a supervisor walks by, press return!_

Doug turned off his computer, then sat back in his chair and continued to look at the black screen in front of him, missing the sky.

Wheat popped his head over the wall of his cubicle. "Lunch, mate?"

Shit, was it time already? Doug said that he would be along in a minute. Then after Wheat was gone, he took two pills, washing them down with cold coffee from earlier that morning. It was far from ideal, but he didn't like to take chances.

Doug headed to the cafeteria, hoping to catch up to his friend.


	12. Flashback Time: Part 2

"It's been a while," his therapist remarked. She was a good woman, like Caroline had been, professional and genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"Work has kept me very busy," Doug replied, a half-truth. "I couldn't get away from the office."

But Dr. Miller saw the way he struggled to meet her eyes. "Doug, what's really going on? You know you can tell me anything."

He shook his head. "I can't talk about it."

"Why?" Dr. Miller carefully extracted the answers from him one question at a time. It was a slow process, but she was a patient woman.

"It's a secret; Aperture's secret. I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

"Okay," the therapist backed off a little. "What _can_ you tell me?"

Doug started to explain about the facility going into lockdown for longer periods of time, how it made him nervous that he might run out of pills or simply not be allowed to go home again. But it was impossible to mention that without also explaining why the company saw fit to lock all its employees inside. Eventually, Aperture's secret was out in the open.

"I'm terrified that one day I just won't come back." He told her everything in disturbing detail, and she listened quietly while jotting down notes like _increasingly delusional_ and _paranoid hallucinations_. Doug spoke about GLaDOS, neurotoxin, disappearances of his coworkers...

Dr. Miller knew what anyone else knew about Aperture Science; it had fallen on hard times after Cave Johnson's death, withdrawing and isolating itself from the outside world. There were rumors of bankruptcy even before Cave died, so she found it difficult to believe they had enough money to build a supercomputer of any kind.

After he finished talking, she tried to think of how to begin. "Doug, sometimes our minds lie to us, like people do. Now, you have been under a lot of stress lately because of work and-"

But he cut her off. "Were you even listening? Work is stressful because that damn AI tries to kill us every time She's activated!"

"Well, I think maybe a higher does-"

"You don't believe me, do you? It's _not _all in my head! I'm not lying, and neither is my mind!" Of course Dr. Miller probably thought that after he left this building, he just wondered around, imagining a crazy robot was out to get him. The portal device did sound like a work of science fiction.

There were still fifteen minutes remaining of this session, but Doug decided to leave anyway. Even his therapist thought he was mad. He might as well just return to Aperture, where the madness was real and perfectly normal.

He would not come back.

)O(

Doug's phone rang just as he was about to leave for the day. It was like whoever wanted to bother him picked the exact worst moment to do so.

"It's me, mate," a familiar British man's voice said breathlessly. "Something's happened and I don't know what to do. Can you meet me in one of the old test shafts?"

"Wheat?" Doug checked and indeed his friend wasn't in the office. "What did you break this time?"

"For God's sake, it isn't like that!" Wheat's tone filled with panic. "Now are you coming or not? There aren't any cameras down here, so it should be safe."

"Where are you exactly?" Doug asked.

"Uh...Test Shaft Zulu Bunsen."

"All right, I'm on my way."

The elevator slowly descended deeper underground. It was made of glass so he could see the gathering darkness and dust-covered underbelly of Aperture. Entire sections of the facility were closed up after Mr. Johnson died, mostly because the company could no longer afford to keep everything operational. But employees who had worked here for a long time still could access abandoned test chambers like this one.

It wasn't too hard to find Wheat considering he was only other person down here. The state of him alarmed Doug. He paced about restlessly, hands in his pockets, peering over the rims of his glasses as if expecting someone other than Doug to emerge from the shadows, perhaps to do him harm. Wheat acted like a man being hunted; it was a feeling Doug was very familiar with. But almost more surprisingly than that, he was also smoking.

"I'm not trying to look cool, if that's what you're thinking," he said as his friend approached. "I'm trying to calm down. I don't even smoke. This is disgusting."

"Probably not a good idea, then."

"Well, according to those bastards, coming up with bad ideas is what I do best! It's my one contribution to science, fancy that." Wheat took another drag off his cigarette and coughed.

"What bastards?" Doug wanted to know, concerned by this strange behavior.

"The bastards who sent me that email," he explained. "Apparently there aren't enough poor blokes willing to become cores anymore. So then Henry, the bloody git, decided to volunteer _me_. And that's not even the best part! You know what core they want me to be? The Intelligence Dampening Sphere, IDS, their fancy way of saying I'm the biggest moron in the whole bloody facility! But _they_are the morons, not me!"

His blood ran cold. "They wouldn't really do that without your consent, would they? What did the email say?"

"Oh, I dunno, all this stuff about how I've been selected to participate in a procedure that will save everyone's lives, and how I should feel honored for the opportunity. But I don't feel bloody honored, Doug!"

"I wouldn't either," he said grimly. "And if they're starting to force people into cores, my time will probably come eventually."

"Of course it won't," Wheat replied bitterly, dropping the rest of cigarette on the ground and stomping it out with his shoe. "They want to make that fucking AI l_ess_ mental, not more. What use would a paranoia core be? A schizophrenia core?"

Doug recoiled at that."What are you going to do?" Obviously his friend was very upset right now and would probably regret saying such things later, but now wasn't the time. They didn't have time to waste.

"I dunno...I-I have to get outta here, that's all." Suddenly Wheat bolted toward the elevator, and Doug could do nothing but watch as it moved toward the surface. He had a feeling his friend wouldn't get far though.

And indeed, by the time Doug pushed open the exit door, revealing a clear blue sky, Wheat was still there. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest amidst the tall golden stalks of dry grass.

"You're not doing a very good job of running away, you know."

"I thought about going home," he said quietly. "To England, I mean. But I don't have money for a plane ticket. Not that it would matter; they'd find me. God knows the world suffers from a shortage of morons."

"I'm sorry, Wheat." he said, lowering himself into the grass beside his friend.

"Why the hell are you apologizing? I'm the one who's sorry! I never should have said that stuff about you. I didn't mean it. You're not mental at all; you're the sanest person here."

The clouds rolled on, and they enjoyed a few moments of silence. "For what it's worth, you're not a moron either."

"I know that. I'm smart enough at least to know these cores won't make a fucking difference. If anything they just make the blasted AI even more inclined to kill us..." His eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to live forever, mate."

It was a terrible burden, this sanity and morality. The knowledge that Doug wasn't even good enough to be turned into a core and Wheatley was soon to be robbed of his human form for nothing. It wouldn't be enough to save their lives. Most of them weren't worth saving anyway.

In the end, one would live forever and the other would just live. It was what neither of them had wanted.


End file.
